


What's Your Music Taste Like, Homie? What Are You Into?

by JayWrites



Series: Love, Hurt, & Misery: One Shots [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2210967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayWrites/pseuds/JayWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A silly little fic about Cassie trying to improve Tom's music taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Your Music Taste Like, Homie? What Are You Into?

**Author's Note:**

> This again takes place before Tom/Cassie officially starts dating. (And I'm just gonna stop telling ya'll I didn't proofread and let anyone who reads this assume I didn't).

Tom’s signature laugh echoed throughout his apartment. “I swear…It was probably the most embarrassing fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Son…”Cassie wiped tears from her eyes. “Okay. You won! You won! Your story tops mine.”

Tom sprung up and did a dramatic bow. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Cassie took a sip of her glass of soda. “I don’t know why you’re so proud, my dude. That’s a really sad story. Hmm…I wonder if I could sell it to a couple of tabloids.”

Tom placed his hands on his hips and stared her down. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh. I dare. I’m broke, son. Even if they gave me $200, that’s two-hundred more than I currently have.”

“You’d sell your soul for $200?”

“Nah…I’d sell _your_ soul for that and then laugh because they paid _way_ too much for it. By, like, $199.”

Tom clutched his chest in fake offense. “Oh, you’re breaking my heart, darling. And here, I thought we were such good friends.”

Cassie chuckled before standing up and walking to his kitchen. “Yeah, well…How does the song go?” She poured another glass of soda before returning to her spot on his couch. “'Your love gives me such a thrill but your love can’t pay my bills…'”

Tom chuckled. “I love that song.” He sat on his coffee table in front of her. His long legs almost caressing hers. She pulled her legs under her; fearing where her thoughts might wonder if they accidentally touched her.

“I didn’t know you were into old school R&B.”

“Oh, yeah. I love it! People are surprised by the amount of R&B on my iPod.”

“Really? What you got on there. No wait! Don’t tell me. I wanna guess. I bet you have…Boys II Men, Color Me Badd, and some TLC. Am I right or am I right?”

“No. Actually…”

“No? You don’t have Boys II Men and TLC on there at least? I mean, Color Me Badd I can understand. Their lyrics say ‘we can do it til we both wake up,’ like, that’s not what we mean when we say ‘sleep in it…’”

“No, Cassie…” Tom pressed his lips together trying to stifle a laugh. “I don’t have those artists on there. I’m more into seventies R&B. Artists like…The Pointer Sisters.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “The Pointer Sisters?” She shrugged. “Well…they got the vocals so…Yeah. But at least tell me you have some Stevie.”

“Uh…” He bit his bottom lip and gently shrugged his shoulders.

Cassie put her hand on her chest. “Oh, Thomas. I think a part of my soul just died.”

“And I didn’t have to pay $200 for it.”

Cassie scoffed. “Real cute. Okay. Go get your iTunes.”

“What?”

“I know I did not stutter, boy! Go get them right now. I want to see what you have on there.”

“Why? People have told me that I have a great taste in music.”

“Are these people deaf or…”

Tom stood up. “That’s cold, Cassie. Really cold.”

“See? You’re doing all this talking when you should be walking.” She clapped her hands twice. “Muévete, Tomás!”

“I’m going! I’m going.” He did a quick run to his bedroom. Cassie took the opportunity to look over his apartment. She had only visited a few times and it was usually with Charlie and Daya or when Tom had a few of his own friends over. So when he invited her over to hang out, she didn’t think twice. That was until she realized it was just the two of them. A quick panic rose in her at first. She had been in denial about her burgeoning crush on him for a while now. She mentally told herself to calm down. She was sure Tom didn’t share the same feelings. He liked her plenty—that she was more than sure of—but she didn’t believe that he could ever see her as more than just a friend. For the last hour she reminded herself to not stare directly into his eyes, or focus too much on the way he said his words, or how fitted his jeans were (she wasn’t sure if she wanted to bless or damn his tailor).

She fingered the books that were on his shelf; glancing at the titles and authors. There were a couple of novels by McEwan, both Bronte sisters, Eliot; anthologies of Donne, Milton, Swift; poetry collections that ran the gamut of authors; and, of course, Shakespeare. There were also countless books on Greek mythology, philosophy and religion. Cassie felt intimidated just looking at the shelves, although, she had no reason to be. She was far from dumb and had read most of the same authors yet insecurity began to creep in. She was surprised, however, to see Vonnegut, Douglas Adams and Lovecraft. “Well,” she whispered to herself, “at least his reading tastes are diverse. Sorta. He ain’t no black authors, though.” She mentally told herself that after she improve his music catalogue, her next assignment was his literary one.

Tom walked back towards the living room. His MacBook was under one arm while his other hand stroked his bottom lip. “Where the hell did I leave that damn adapter,” he muttered to himself. He stopped short when he saw Cassie standing in front of his bookshelf. He couldn’t help but smile as she inspected his collection of books. He knew she would probably tease him about the amount of Shakespeare he had. He also couldn’t help but smile at how long her legs looked when she raised on her toes to pull out a copy of _Jane Eyre_ from the top shelf. Also, did she have to wear those shorts? If they could even be called shorts. He took a minute to admire the way the denim fabric hugged her round cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to rush over there and pin her against the bookcase. He wanted to lick every inch of her flesh and bury himself deep inside her. He could even imagine her wrapping those shapely legs around his waist as he drove deeper into her. Her arms wrapped around his neck; her breath panting into his ear. _Stop it, Tom._ This was not why he invited her over.

A month had passed since he last saw her. He had beaten her in a drinking game in her apartment. He spent the night there (too drunk to drive himself home) and stayed up talking to her the rest of the night. He had to leave town, again, immediately afterward. They continued to talk as they usually did—through texts and Twitter—but he missed her company. At first, he was sure that he invited her over to remedy that but now, with the way his mind wandered, he knew better. He didn’t have the time for a relationship. Usually, he could manage a month or two long one but eventually either he or they would want something more. Yet, he just couldn’t commit to it. He had a couple of “friends with benefits” situations but they always soured on one end if not both. He didn’t want to risk ruining his and Cassie’s friendship for a few weeks of sex. But, by god, if the opportunity ever presented itself, he wasn’t entirely certain that he would turn her down.

He collected himself and cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “I found my computer but it’s almost dead. I can’t find my adapter. I think I left it in the car.”

“I have it. You gave it to me, remember?”

“No. When did I do that?”

“After we came back from lunch. You told me you were in a hurry this morning and grabbed the wrong charger because ‘fucking white cords’ and then you asked me to hold it for you because you didn’t want to put it in your pocket because it would give you an unsightly bulge. And now you forgot because you’re an old man.”

“Bullshit. I never said ‘unsightly bulge.’”

Cassie shrugged and dug through her purse. “I just surmised the most apt reason.” She pulled out the adapter and handed it to him.

He took it and joked, “You know you just _love_ thinking about my bulge.”

“Ha! You wish, sir.”

He plugged in his computer and thought to himself how much he did wish she was thinking about him in that way. He quickly shooed the thought away and pulled up his iTunes. “See…I told you I have excellent music tastes.”

“Sure, my dude. But what about your R&B tastes.”

He turned the computer around so she could see the screen. “See for yourself.”

“It’s too far away. Lemme come over there.”

Tom raised his eyebrow and slapped his lap. “Here’s a seat.”

“You play too much, Mr. Hiddleston,” Cassie said laughing lightly. “I’m gonna sit on the arm, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself. My lap is much more comfortable. Or so I’ve been told.” He had a mischievous smirk on his face.

Cassie playfully pushed him and sat on the chair arm. This playful flirting was going to be the death of her. Tom couldn’t focus on anything but how close her dark brown thigh was to him. He was tempted to caress it but resisted. “This music selection is sad, son.”

“What?” Her voice brought him back to the present. “What’s wrong with it.”

“All I see is the Pointer Sisters. And that one Barrett Strong song. What happened to ‘all the R&B’ on your iTunes that supposedly surprises people?”

“It’s there! Look up Jay-Z.” Cassie screwed up her face and stared at him. He realized he said something wrong but he wasn’t sure what. “What’s the matter,” he asked cautiously.

“Did you really just fucking say that Jay-Z was R&B? Jay fucking Z! I almost hit you really hard right then. You do not even realize…”

Tom got nervous. “W-well…I…”

“Jay-Z…is rap!” Tom tried to stutter out a response but Cassie cut him off again. “R&B is singing, got that? Rapping is…rapping! Say it with me.”

“R-R&B is singing.”

“Rapping is rapping!”

“Rapping is rapping. Goddamn…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. But…No offense but white people are just all fucked up.”

Tom laughed in surprise. “What?”

“Look, most of ya’ll only know who Jay-Z is because he’s Beyoncé’s husband. Quick name me a Jay-Z album.” Tom opened his mouth to respond but Cassie cut him off to add, “That isn’t _Watch the Throne_ or _Magna Carter_.” Tom closed his mouth again. “That’s what I thought. Look, if you can’t even _pretend_ to tell me you fuck with _The Blueprint_ …then just don’t talk to me.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I have Will Smith.”

Cassie sucked her teeth. “Which Will Smith?”

“What?”

“Which Will Smith? You got that ‘Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff’ Will Smith or that ‘Getting Jiggy with It’ Will Smith?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes!”

“I think you’re just being biased now, Cassie.”

“No, Thomas. I’m trying to help you. Look, I like _Big Willie Style_ just as much as the next person, but ain’t nobody bumping that from their car. Nobody’s gonna be upset at 'Men in Black' but you come with some 'Miami' shit…”

Tom perked up. “I love 'Miami'! I know all the words…” Cassie shot him another look. “Which apparently is something I should not be proud of.” He rolled his eyes and tensed his jaw.

“Uh-uh. Don’t be giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“ _That_ look on your face. And don’t think I didn’t see you roll your eyes at me earlier.”

“Well, why can’t I just like what I like?” Tom raised his voice slightly.

Cassie was unfazed but called him on it. “Do not raise your voice at me. You can like whatever you want, Tom. Nobody’s saying you can’t. But you out here calling Jay-Z R&B and that’s gotta stop.”

“Okay. I won’t call Jay-Z R&B anymore.”

“Promise?”

Tom tapped his foot. He was an inch away from pushing her off the chair but instead he forced a smile and answered, “Promise.”

“Good. Now do you have a card attached to your iTunes account?”

“Yes…Why?”

“So I can add songs to your library, duh.”

“No, Cassie…”

“What? It’s just everything Stevie ever wrote, the Jacksons…”

“I have Michael Jackson on there.”

“But do you have the _Jack…sons…?_ ” Tom bit his bottom lip and answered with a terse no. “Okay. So like I was saying…The Jacksons—most of their early shit is just covers but you definitely need the singles and the _Destiny_ album. That’s my shit. Now who else? The Temptations, of course. With and without David Ruffin…And all the nineties R&B you’re missing out on…”

“Cassie! I have bills! I can’t buy all of that music.” Tom’s eyes were wide at the sound of the list.

“I know that! I was just gonna add them to your wish list. We’ll start with some Stevie Wonder. _Songs in the Key of Life._ That, above all else, is the album that you must listen to.” She looked at Tom. His face wore an expression of annoyance. She chuckled. “You look like you wanna strangle the shit out of me right now.”

“No. But I am entertaining serious thoughts about pushing your ass off this chair.”

“You wouldn’t dare be so cruel.” Tom gave her a mischievous look. “Tom…No…Behave.” He pushed her and laughed loudly. “You lil’ shit! And after I was helping you come up.”

Tom stretched out his long legs and clasped his fingers over his chest. “You know…I get the feeling I should care but…”

Cassie jumped up and grabbed him from behind. She placed one arm around his throat and used her free hand to gently tug at his hair. “I was raised with six cousins! Four of them boys! I know how to rough house, son!” Tom laughed and managed to free himself from her grip. “Oh shit,” Cassie exclaimed before trying to run away from him. She ran down the hall toward his bedroom. She turned to close the door behind her but was surprise to find him right behind her. She forgot two important things: Tom was a runner and he was very tall. She often joked he could walk a mile in two steps.

She still attempted to close the bedroom door but Tom pressed his weight against it. She groaned and cursed at him; he only laughed in response. He finally pushed the door open. Cassie looked around the room. She was cornered. He slowly walked towards her. His face was stern. “You look scared,” he mocked. “I thought you said you knew how to rough house.” He reached for her but she quickly bobbed out of his way. She was half-way down his hallway again before she felt his arms around her waist. He easily picked her up. She kicked her legs.

“Let me go, you bastard!”

Tom tsked. “Oh no! You asked for this!” The threw her on the couch. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Cassie. Now, let me think. How can I punish you?”

“You can give me a stern warning and let me go. You’re right. I’ve been bad girl. That knowledge alone should be my punishment.”

“Nice try, shorty!” He grabbed her feet and attempted to remove her sandals but Cassie, of course, fought him. He managed to remove one shoe.

“Oh my god, Tom, don’t! If you tickle me…I swear to god, dude.” Tom ignored her threat and tickled her anyway. Cassie’s laughter filled his apartment. “Please no! I hate being tickled!”

“Say my music taste is good.”

“I’d rather die than lie!”

“Have it your way.” He continued tickling her. She tried to wiggle away but couldn’t. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Say it!”

Cassie gave in. “Okay! Your tastes are good! Please stop!” He let her foot go. “You ain’t shit, Tom.”

He shrugged. He held out her sandal but pulled it away before she could grab it. “Now, if I give you this you have to promise not to take back what you said.”

“I don’t have the energy, dude.” She stretched out her hand to receive her shoe but he still wouldn’t give it to her. She sucked her teeth. “I fucking promise, man. Now my shoe, please? Thank you.” She put it on and calmly adjusted her clothes. Tom watched her. “What?” She slowly got up and walked back toward the hall; fully aware of Tom’s gaze. When she made it within an inch of his bedroom she called back, “Your music taste still suck!”

“Oh, you’re dead!” He chased after her but Cassie slammed his bedroom door closed. Tom banged against the door, “I will have my revenge! You can’t stay in there forever!”

Cassie laughed and leaned against the door. “Watch me!”


End file.
